Pacific Hunt
by TheWeekendWriter
Summary: The scavenger hunt provided the personnel of the 'dome with something fun and mindless to do. But when Chuck Hansen refuses to participate, he finds himself roped in anyway.


Raleigh Beckett has the list tucked firmly under one arm and all the muscles in his body are engaged in full stealth mode. He can do this. He'd faced down a handful of raging Kaiju before – hell, he'd killed one on his own – and even succeeded in blowing up another dimension. So this would no doubt be a piece of cake.

Literally.

He edged around the tables of the mess hall, carefully spreading the bones of his feet to limit the number of footsteps that would echo across the large room. The prize was in sight – one piece of actual chocolate cake, lazily decorated by the kitchen staff. There was no need to make it pretty when the remaining Shatterdome personnel were grateful to get cake of any kind.

Much louder footsteps were approaching. Raleigh feigned back, practically bending over his legs backwards, to hide under one of the mess tables. The perp passed. Raleigh emerged into the pathway and eyed the cake again.

Herc's head was turned to follow said perp, his fork paused in the air from where he had not yet dug in.

Raleigh knew his time was running out. He inched closer, careful not to shuffle the paper under his arm, lest Herc hear him. The missions were getting more and more dangerous in nature, but he had to admit, this one had been the most suicidal so far.

 _12\. Steal one of Hercs Hansen's pieces of cake without him knowing._

Raleigh swore the paper had been taunting him when he read the line.

A sudden bang off of the side wall caught Herc's attention, then Raleigh's. Enough so that Herc completely turned around in his seat and Raleigh attempted to duck further. He glanced back, and somehow couldn't locate the dark brown, frosted surprise. In the split second that Raleigh's attention had been averted, someone had swiped it.

He swore under his breath. Herc turned back and did the same, but at a much louder volume.

And slinking back toward the hallways that led to LOCCENT, cake carefully held in one hand, paper in the other, was one Mako Mori.

"That was just playing dirty, Mako."

The petite woman met his gaze with her signature half-smile, eyeing him as though she pitied him. "You should be quicker than that."

He swore that since Operation Pitfall, since the time she had spent in his head, she had gotten more… sassy. Hell, since they canceled the apocalypse, everyone had gotten more playful. Now that there was more time to play and the threat of death didn't hang over them all at every moment.

The papers clutched in their hands were definitely indicators of this. Raleigh ruefully crossed 12 off of his list. Now that Mako had gotten it, he was sure Herc would keep a much more watchful eye on his desserts. That one was a lost cause. And besides, the goal here was to get the most items on the list, not all of them.

It was widely disputed who had created the Shatterdome scavenger hunt, though nobody was really complaining about it. Raleigh especially appreciated the distraction to his regular insomnia; of all things that had survived the war, he wasn't surprised that was one. The scavenger hunt gave him something to focus on. Even his therapist had supported that. And it gave him a real excuse for wandering the halls in the dead of night.

And, as he watched Tendo shuffling down their hallway, nose almost pressed to the wall in his attempt to find _10\. A Striker Eureka sticker stuck to a wall near the mess_ , he had to admit the hunt had rather raised spirits as well. He caught Mako's gaze; she raised a hand to stifle laughter as she watched Tendo's back, his scavenger hunt paper tucked carefully under one suspender.

"Is that a challenge, Mako?" Raleigh supplied once Tendo was out of earshot.

This time, both corners of her mouth twitched upwards. Raleigh knew the two of them were the furthest ahead in the game. All their training paying off, he guessed. "It would be a challenge," she said quietly, "If I was worried you could beat me."

Raleigh stared blankly, not used to such frank trash talk from her. "Oh, it's on, Mori."

Chuck Hansen had never been one for bullshit. His record at the academy, along with his impressive Kaiju kill count (of which he was counting _at least_ two out of the three from Pitfall, fuck you very much, Beckett) were proof enough of that. Which is why he had busied himself in sorting Jaeger scrap the second he was let out of medical. Yes, they had saved the world. He had his pride, but yes, of course he gave Mori and Beckett their dues in saving the world. But just because the Breach had been closed didn't mean there was no chance of further Kaiju threat in the future. Or any other kind of massive, weirdo-alien monsters, for that matter.

Chuck hauled a particularly large piece of useless scrap out of the way and mused over the fact that the UN finally seemed to be thinking along the same lines. Once Pitfall had been ruled successful and Herc had stepped up as Marshal, those UN fuckers finally got their heads out of their asses and decided to finally recognize the Jaeger Program as the most viable solution to the problem. Since, you know, the problem had been solved. It had taken a few months, but funding had finally kicked in enough to keep the Hong Kong Shatterdome open. Full scale production on Jaegers wouldn't begin again, but they were being kept in business enough that if the possibility of future Kaiju threat ever arose, they could handle the challenge.

And research was still ongoing. Newt, the crazy little fucker, was still running tests and probing into Kaiju biology. And he'd never admit it to anyone, but Chuck had helped a bit along the way (so biology was interesting, sue him). That research was important to figuring out how to rebuild from the immense destruction caused by the years of the Kaiju War. The oceans alone had suffered greatly, and the more research went happened, the closer they would be to figuring out how to revive the struggling environment.

Short of the long, Chuck was doing very important things. So he was very annoyed at those who weren't on that same page.

As of late, that included Mori and Beckett. The two seemed to have taken an even longer hiatus from real work after Pitfall at the creation of the ridiculous scavenger hunt that had taken over the 'dome in a matter of days. Chuck snorted. Who the hell had had the time to create such a thing? Hell, he was more than capable of sorting scrap on his own, but that didn't mean an extra hand wouldn't have been helpful. Sure, Beckett had sacrificed Gipsy to the other universe to destroy it, effectively disproving all of Chuck's earlier ravings about how much of a useless has-been he was. But all this work to do stupid shit such as looking for stickers on walls and stealing shirts and whatnot showed Chuck just how useless the guy really was.

Chuck grunted, muscles straining to rip apart a piece of particularly stubborn scrap. The manual labor was enough to release the pent-up anger that came day to day at the uselessness of the scavenger hunt. Since Pitfall and facing the reality of his own mortality, he had calmed down quite a bit. And thinking about Stacker's last words and wishes for him as the former Marshall shoved him into an escape pod had effectively cooled the arrogant pride he used to swagger around the Shatterdome with. But that didn't mean he had become friends with the sappy sod that had once piloted Gipsy. No, there was still some frustration there that Chuck couldn't name, but he was far too busy to sit down and think about it.

Except the other day when he'd snapped at the blonde for attempting to walk off with a piece of his Jaeger scrap for the stupid scavenger hunt.

No, he didn't care about some dumb scavenger hunt. Even if he was one of the only ones not participating. He wasn't worried about not being included; despite what everyone seemed to think, he wasn't a bloody child. As long as they kept out of his work and didn't bother him, he didn't care what they did with their time. Even if they were being useless.

 _15\. A pair of Chuck Hansen's boxers._

"Uh, Mako?"

She looked up from pouring over notes about the newest Jaeger schematics. Raleigh felt a twinge of pride at his partner's work. She had been spending weeks meeting with former engineers and math majors in an attempt to put together plans for a new generation of Jaegers, should the need arise from them. Although he didn't think himself smart enough to help with such plans, she often went over them with him to help him feel included. Sure, he was a great pilot, but he'd never been book-smart enough to build them.

"Have you seen the new page on the scavenger hunt list?" he pressed.

She nodded absentmindedly, having returned to the schematics. "Yes. There seems to have been an increase of ones involving Chuck. Especially later on the list."

Raleigh glanced back down at the paper and realized she was right. Of course she was right. Her quiet and impressive intelligence hadn't lessened since Pitfall. "Why…?"

Mako's lips pursed in thought. "Perhaps because he has refused to participate thus far?"

A chuckle tore itself from his lungs and turned into full-on laughter. "Oh, man. I wish I knew who was writing this hunt. They definitely have it out for baby Hansen."

Working around the hunt creator's intended path, which would likely have put him in Chuck's room and therefore in the crosshairs of Chuck's well-known anger, Raleigh simply took a trip to the laundry facilities. Sweet talking the women who worked there was no issue at all; Raleigh was well aware of his charm and how to use it, even if he didn't play for that team. The loss of such ability was a travesty to women, Yancy had always pointed out. The thought and remembering their playful banter fueled the boyish grin he flashed to get the women flustered enough to look away while he stole a pair of Chuck's boxers.

Of course, they were the same muted gray as the rest of the brat's wardrobe.

Chuck's frustration at the loss of half of his undergarments was both palpable at the end of the week and very laughable. Raleigh had to keep his head down practically into his food tray when the ginger stormed through the mess hall, complaining to Herc about the loss, even going as far as threatening to have the laundry staff interrogated.

Mako punched Raleigh in the arm as he succumbed to silent laughter that shook him so hard he almost fell out of his seat.

Raleigh frowned at the next item on the list.

 _19\. Get a picture of Chuck Hansen's pocketknife._

Whoever was writing this scavenger hunt was someone who knew a good deal about Chuck Hansen if they were aware of how hard it would be to get Chuck's pocketknife out of his pockets from where it sat constantly. Raleigh mulled this point over as he wandered the empty halls of the Shatterdome. It was night time, giving him enough alone time to think things over. After the events of the boxer incident, the list had gotten even more… Chuck-related. They weren't designed to be hurtful toward the young man, but rather put him in more contact with the personnel of the 'dome playing the game.

Was the person designing the hunt trying to get the younger Hansen to make friends?

It wouldn't surprise him. Raleigh had had more conversations with Chuck than ever, and they were considerably nicer than the one that ended in a fistfight. It was harder to get less friendly than that event, but so far no more punches had been thrown. Chuck had even been willing to help Raleigh procure _17\. Chuck Hansen's door code_. Although the ginger had vehemently insisted his door code be changed after finding out it was on the damn hunt, he was more than willing to help Raleigh get the leg up on Mako.

Good to see that the childish competitive streak they had grown up with hadn't ended.

But this one was… a lot more difficult. Raleigh considered his options. He could wait until Chuck was showering and sneak into his bunk in the hopes of getting the pocketknife for the picture. Now that he had the brat's door code, that one would be a cinch. Except the kid probably kept his showers military short after all this time, which meant that unless Raleigh knew exactly where he put the pocket knife, he would most likely be caught red-handed. His best bet would be to attempt to pick pocket the kid. Sure, Raleigh wasn't proud of the thieving abilities he had acquired from his time away from the PPDC, but at least he could put them to good use.

Raleigh's feet had taken him to the Jaeger bay during his deep thoughts, he realized with a jolt. But what was more jarring was the hissing and spitting of welding equipment emitting from one of the bays.

It was almost 2am. Who the hell was up this late?

He made his way to the bay and found the ginger he'd been thinking about crouched over a pile of Jaeger scrap. A welding torch in one hand was making quick work of a particularly large piece. Raleigh watched the heavily muscled shoulder work for a few seconds. Sure, he had always known Chuck was strong; their fight in the hallway had proved so. But he had never stopped to appreciate the heavily muscled body in detail before.

Raleigh shook his head. Now was the perfect time to poach the knife and work his way on the hunt. Said pocketknife was protruding from the back pocket of Chuck's jeans (jeans which fit tightly around a wonderful ass, Raleigh noted) within easy reach. All he had to do was be careful. The noise of welding metal would cover him, and Raleigh knelt and reached forward ever so carefully…

"Oi, the fuck?" Chuck turned and flipped the welding mask up as Raleigh's hand neared.

The turn moved the protruding pocket knife, and Raleigh's diverted eyes failed to notice as he stared Chuck down. Unfortunately, the hand kept moving forward until he grasped a firm handful of muscled, Hansen ass.

Chuck's eyes widened. The failed mission had Raleigh groaning inwardly. How the hell was he going to explain this one? The silence stretched, and Raleigh knew the longer he waited, the closer the volatile Hansen would come to throwing punches.

When asked later, Raleigh had no explanation for what happened next. He simply leaned forward and pressed his lips to Chuck's.

The startled noise the brat made was cut short when he finally leaned into the kiss. The welding torch dropped with a clang and Chuck's hands replaced the tool with Raleigh's hair. When they parted, both men were breathless. Raleigh's head in particular was spinning at the direction the night had taken.

"Mate, if you wanted a piece of this ass, all you had to do was ask," Chuck said with a grin.

Raleigh stared, breathing heavily. Yes, this was the first time he'd taken notice of the younger man's heavily muscled frame and how nice it was, but if he had anything to say about it, it wouldn't be the last.

"And if I'm asking now?" Raleigh went for another kiss.

"Then the fuck're we doing wasting our time out here?"

Herc cracked his knuckles and looked over the page in front of him. The laptop keys had stopped furiously clicking moments ago. Now, he was just proofreading the newest page he planned on printing and distributing. He smirked at his own handiwork as he thought back on the trip to his bunk the other night. The sight of Raleigh and Chuck, tangled and kissing but making their way slowly down the deserted hall to Raleigh's bunk, made this whole damn scavenger hunt worth it.

And if he smirked extra hard when Raleigh flashed a photo of Chuck's pocket knife to Mako victoriously the next day, well, nobody would ever know the reason why.


End file.
